


Game Night

by sweetdreamsofgelato (Dolceamara)



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, mentions of drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolceamara/pseuds/sweetdreamsofgelato
Summary: Light-hearted fluffy one-shot about game night with Henry
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Kudos: 15





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> A reposting of my work from Tumblr. You can find me there by the same name (sweetdreamsofgelato).
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> Disclaimer: Complete work of fiction from the recesses of my own imagination. No infringement intended.

"So, it's that time again." Henry tugged the tattered dishcloth from his shoulder and quickly wiped away the excess water from the freshly washed pan.

You hummed affirmatively as you continued clearing the remnants of dinner from the table. Henry had finally returned home from his latest shoot, which had been delayed and ran far longer than anyone had anticipated. As always, you both quickly and happily settled into your usual domestic routine when Henry was home. These periods never lasted as long as either of you liked, but you operated on the belief of quality over quantity, making the absolute most of the downtime when you had it.

"What's it going to be? I believe it's your turn to choose," he added.

Game night was much revered in your home. It was a tradition that you enjoyed in childhood with your own family and still remained your favorite way to spend a quiet evening with Henry. Competition was not something you gravitated to naturally, but Henry's enthusiasm for competitive gameplay was infectious. In the beginning, you often chose games you knew Henry would enjoy and most likely win. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy besting him; you simply enjoyed watching him bask in the glow of his own triumph more. However, the more you played, the more you genuinely wanted to wipe the floor with him.

While you silently mulled over your options, Kal nudged the container of roasted chicken in your hands, hoping to appeal to your generosity and general inability to refuse him. You rubbed his head affectionately before dropping a quick, apologetic kiss on his snout. He let out a low whine of disappointment before returning to his cosy bed in the next room.

"No PC games this time," Henry added quickly as he hung the wet dishrag to dry. "Let's unplug. Perhaps a game that's for just the two of us?"

"That sounds highly suggestive, Mr. Cavill." You shut the refrigerator door and rested your lower back on the edge of the counter and cast him a meaningful glance.

"Completely unintentional, I assure you." He stepped into you, letting out a deep contented hum that sent a shot of pure lust straight through you, as he well knew it would. His hands settled into the curves of your sides and gave a squeeze that was both soothing and unabashedly evocative. 

"Pick your poison."

"Gin."

"The drink?"

"No, the card game." 

You were fairly certain that Henry had no experience with the game. You had played a few variations of poker with him, which he usually won. Something he was never displeased about, especially when forfeiting articles of clothing upon defeat was involved.

A devilish grin spread across Henry's face. "Gin? Isn't that game a bit...old fashioned? Like Bridge?

"Are you calling me old?"

"I would never." Henry feigned pure indignation at the accusation. "Though if you want, I could ring the local care home to see if they have a standing game we could join."

"You're a real shit sometimes, Cavill."

"But you love me anyway." It was barely a whisper as he pulled you closer.

Your expression softened as your fingers trailed up his arms, whispering across the lines of his well-defined muscles before lacing together behind his neck.

"I can choose something else. You know, if you're afraid of losing."

Henry's gaze lowered to yours immediately, an eyebrow raising at your obvious challenge. His voice took on a dark and forbidding edge. "Get the cards."

"Are you sure? I am very good, even in my advanced age," you teased. "I would hate to be responsible for any irreparable damage to your ego."

"Get the cards!" Henry pulled away to snag a bottle of wine and two glasses and disappeared into the living room.

After far too much wine, some wins but more losses (and even more colorful expletives), Henry finally admitted defeat. He tossed his cards on the table and grumbled in disappointment.

You shifted, drawing your legs under you as you sank into the plush softness of the couch.

"You know, you sound remarkably like Kal did earlier when I refused to slip him a bit of leftover chicken."

Henry's gaze narrowed as he scooped the pile of playing cards together. "Are you comparing me to a disgruntled jungle pig?"

You glanced at Kal, who was softly snoring under the coffee table.

"I would never," you echoed his earlier words with amusement.

"I demand a rematch."

You tsked playfully in response. "Now now, we should all learn to be gracious in defeat." The wine had clearly settled comfortably into your system and left the edges of your mind fuzzy and loose. It put you in the mood to goad him, if just a little.

"And magnanimous in victory," Henry countered as he fumbled his shuffle. Apparently the wine had gotten to him too.

"Hm, that's fair," you conceded. "Fine, one more hand. Winner takes all."

"Oh, I intend to."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ https://sweetdreamsofgelato.tumblr.com/


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